Tirconnell raised an army and by various initial successes induced James to come to Dublin. He brought with him some 400 French officers, but his chief asset was one Patrick Sarsfield, an Irishman well worthy to rank with O'Neill and O'Donnell. To Ireland came William himself in 1690, and the issue was decided on the banks of the Boyne near Drogheda. The Irish, numbering 26,000, were poorly equipped, with twelve fieldguns as their only artillery, but crowning weakness of all was the leadership of the wretched James. Opposed to them was a veteran army of 40,000, half made up of Prussians, Brandenburgers, Danes, Swedes, and other hardy mercenaries, backed by fifty field-guns, and strengthened immeasurably by the superb leadership of William and the military genius of the Duke of Schönberg. After a day of furious fighting, fittingly marked at the end by the flight of James, the Irish confessed defeat, but made their escape in fairly good order.

"Change kings with us," cried Sarsfield, in answer to an English taunt, "and we will fight you again."

Sarsfield now came to the Irish command, and the first test of his mettle was given at

Limerick, where he rallied his men after the Boyne. The French officers, looking at the crumbled walls, dissociated themselves absolutely from the siege, sneering that the English could "batter down the ramparts with roasted apples." Nevertheless, Sarsfield and his Irish, against odds, and even lacking ammunition and artillery, held the enemy at bay for three terrible weeks, and in the final assault administered so crushing a defeat to the besiegers that William retired and returned to England.

In May, 1691, James again reached out the hand of confusion from his safe retreat in France, sending Lieut.-Gen. St. Ruth to take command of the Irish army. Brave enough and an experienced soldier, St. Ruth's great weakness was an abnormal conceit that made him impatient of advice and especially jealous of Sarsfield. He lost the battle of Athlone in the very hour that he was bumptiously celebrating victory, and the defeat at Aughrim was equally due to his arrogant refusal to tell his officers of the battle plan. A cannon-ball took off his head at a critical point in the fighting, and the Irish, utterly without leadership, fell into confusion and final rout.

Again Sarsfield was called to captain the disorganized forces, again he chose Limerick as his citadel, and again the Dutch General Ginkle attacked with Brandenburgers, Dutch Blue Guards, French Huguenots, and trained English veterans. After five weeks, when the siege was a deadlock, Ginkle, under orders from King William, proposed a fair peace. Sarsfield, at the end of his resources, and believing no longer in the promise of aid from France, agreed to a truce, and on October 3d a formal treaty was signed. The ink was barely dry when a French fleet sailed up the Shannon, but Sarsfield, having pledged his word, refused to receive the aid that would have meant victory. His honor and high faith, unfortunately, met only with English dishonor and ill faith.

The terms secured by Sarsfield were fair, guaranteeing religious liberty and explicitly pledging that only the usual oath of allegiance should be asked of Catholics. Not only were these solemn pledges of the crown violated in every particular, but William, following in the footsteps of James and Cromwell, entered upon a campaign of confiscation. In all, William forfeited 1,700,000